Nightmare
by Walkinthegarden
Summary: There screams, bodies, family, friends, faces, bedrooms, their life. Why could he never have a moment of peace? Why did their memories haunt him. "Everyone remembers the names of the UnSubs, but nobody remembers the victims." He does. He can't forget.


Pictures, videos, paintings, bedrooms, parents, friends, and crime scenes; all things Aaron Hotchner saw when he closed his eyes at night. All he could see was the terrified eyes of small children and tearful parents.

**October 23, 2004 – 3:34**

"Hotch," JJ's sad voice called as he cleared the room. The agent lowered his weapon and entered the room. His face remained emotionless while his insides screamed. The body of a black haired teenager lay on the bed, her stomach was gutted and her neck slashed. Her blue eyes were staring into the open air, empty, dead of any life. In the corner of the room was a younger girl with short brown hair. Her cloths were ripped, her face was burned, fingers broken, and stomach slashed. It had been a horrible sight to see.

All he could think about was the fact that 48 hours ago he'd spoken to these girls. He'd watched as they both worried over their friend who had been kidnapped the day previous.

As he and JJ exited the house, he spotted the girls' parents drive up. He watched as their mother and father jumped out of the car and started running towards them. He watched as Derek and Emily stopped them. He watched as realization crossed their faces. He watched as they both started the cry. He watched as the 42 year old woman fell to the ground in heartbreaking sobs. She had just lost both her daughters in one bloody slaughter. The woman that had risked so much to save her daughters, no longer had anyone left to live for. But this was all he could do, watch.

**Present**

Hotch rolled over onto his stomach as the memory of Jessica Parker filled his haunted mind. He remembered every detail about the teenager. How she'd cried when she heard the news. How she'd fallen ill after. How she wore her blonde hair in a ponytail when she heard that morning.

Hotch had a book, in it were the names of certain victims and the occasional family member of a victim he'd connected with. Jessica Parker was listed under the S for shootings/stabbings.

**July 10, 1997 – 11:30 am**

"You have to find him," Jessica cried as she grabbed onto his arm in a tight grip. A new set of tears fell from her pretty eyes, she managed to say: "He's the only family I have left." Each word stabbed his heart. "I may be 19, but I still need someone to take care of me," she whispered as JJ put her arms around the girl. "Find him." Those words made him make the promise he knew he should never make.

"I will."

**Present**

Hotch rolled over again as he thought of her face. All he could see was the look of betrayal she'd given him when he told her that the case was cold and they needed to go.

**July 12, 1997 – 6:53 pm**

"You're what?!" she asked in disbelief. Her eyes were red from crying but the anger was evident in her voice. Hotch could tell she was doing a lot to keep her temper in check.

"We have to go. Jess, your brother's case is going cold. I'm sorry," he told her with a look of pity as he packed his things in the local police station.

"I WILL!" she screamed back at him, repeating the very promise he'd given her.

"I'm sorry Jess," he breathed as he turned from her angry, betrayed face.

"_Don't, _call me that," she hissed as she turned her head from him. It hurt him to see her cry. She was such a beautiful teenager, looking so much like Hailey when they were kids. The resemblance only made it harder to leave the case, not to mention to fight the urge to wipe her tears from her face.

**Present**

Hotch felt horrible for destroying the trust she'd had in him. He kept an eye on her after he'd left. The loss of her brother had destroyed Jessica; she became a prostitute for a few years. Then she cleaned herself up and became a manager in a small business. She finally landed herself in a mental institute for three attempted suicides and was still there at the age of 32.

The next person to flash across his minds was Lucy Combs. Lucy was a beautiful teenager, 14, their UnSub. Lucy went around killing parents that abused their kids since she was in an abusive household. When she finally cracked and killed her own parents, they'd just thought of her as a victim. Till an 18 year old boy- who was the son of one of her victims- came by for a visit.

**December 24, 2000 – 8:32 pm**

"Hotch, it's Christmas Eve, maybe we should wait till the 26th to talk to Lucy," Morgan told him as he and Reid followed Hotch into the Home for Boys and Girls.

"Lucy Combs," Hotch told the man at the front desk, ignoring Morgan's comment.

"Popular girl, a friend of hers just went up to visit—"

A scream cut him off.

"You killed them!" a male voice yelled. The three FBI agents looked up to see Lucy pushed up against the balcony of the fifth floor that overlooked the foyer.

"Let me… GO!" the unmistakable voice of Lucy Combs yelled as she fought against the man. All Hotch could really see was her auburn head as the boy pushed her with all his force. Lucy screamed as she fell over the side.

"Get out of the way!" Hotch yelled as he pushed Reid to the side. Lucy's body made a sickening crack as it collided with the marble floor. Morgan took off after the boy who was staring over the railing in disbelief while Hotch ran to Lucy's side. Her breaths were shallow, but she was still alive.

"Lucy, we're calling an ambulance," he told her as he smoothed out her hair.

"I k-killed them," she rasped.

"What?"

"They hurt their kids… they n-needed to b-be stopped."

"Lucy, save your breath, you're going to be ok."

"T-tell J-Jennie I'm sorry," she whispered before her eyes fell empty. Hotch gave a sigh as he closed her eyes.

**Present**

Lucy, all she'd wanted to do was protect the children that had no one else to protect them. The government had screwed up her life, telling her over and over that she was lying and that her parents were decent people. Being abused herself, she saw the signs in other kids. She bonded with them, coursed invitations to their houses. She learned the layout of each room. Then she came back at night when the children were away, she killed the parents in their sleep, a quick slice in their throat. Then after one particularly brutal beating, she killed her own parents. She had only become another victim in the eyes of the BAU. Then she shocked them all and revealed herself as the killer as she lay there, dieing.

Hotch had once told Rossi that everyone remembered the names of the UnSubs, and no one remembered the names of the victims. That had been a lie, their almost always was someone to remember their names, that person being their investigator.

652, that was the number of cases he'd worked in his life. 3,498 the number of interviews he'd had with victims. Each one had a different story to tell, each trapped in their own personal hell. He couldn't remember how many funerals family's had asked him to attend. He'd only been able to attend half.

A woman named Lydia Meadows, had sent word that Ann Gutler – a friend of Lydia's dead daughter – had committed suicide. The two girls had been so close.

**November 10, 2004 – 12:34 pm**

"Hotch, I found her!" Derek yelled as he ran to the unconscious teen. He had kneeled before the brunette and felt for a pulse. "Get me the medic!"

Hotch ran in with Emily and immediately tried to help Derek stop the bleeding as Reid called for the medic. The medics were quick to push them aside as they got there and set out working on the young teenager. As they took her to the hospital, he gruffly pushed JJ out of the way as he climbed into the back of the ambulance. Being the media liaison, JJ usually took care of the victims after they were found. She had been surprised and slightly hurt when he shoved her aside, but she understood and made sure to let him know later.

While in the ambulance, Christine Meadows came out of her unconscious slumber. She turned her tired head to see Hotch. She gave him a pained, but grateful smile. "Thank you," she murmured before falling back into a deep sleep that she would never wake up from. She was pronounced dead ten minutes later.

When they arrived at the hospital, Lydia Meadows and Ann Gutler where running up the hall. Ann's beautiful brown hair looked like she had been pulled from bed and was still in her PJs. Lydia's face was flushed from the run, but their was a somewhat dizzy smile on her face. She'd heard her daughter was found and alive, she hadn't heard of the death.

"How is she?" Ann asked him, looking both sleepy and energetic. It tore at Hotch's heart to know that he had to crush her hopes in only a few moments.

"I'm so sorry," Hotch started. He watched Ann's face fall as she looked at him in confusion.

"What do you mean?" Lydia cut in, asking Ann's unspoken question.

"Um, Christine was pronounced dead five minutes ago," he told them gently. JJ – being the savior she was – swept in that moment and sped away with the distraught mother, leaving the tearful teen to (as JJ put it) Hotch's very capable hands.

"What?" Ann asked him as she whipped her tears with the sleeve of her light pink pajamas that had penguins on them. "What happened?"

"She started bleeding very heavily and we couldn't stop it," he told her with a sigh. She turned from him, tears streaming down her young face. She didn't look 14 at that moment; she looked 9, young and vulnerable. She fell into a seat and started to sob.

"You know, she wanted to be just like you guys. A profiler I mean," she told him as the tears slipped down her angeletic face. She stared at him, searching his face for answers she would not find. She was expecting him to know all the answers, to understand that he was supposed to tell her what to do. She looked up at him. "Are you married?"

"Yes," he said as he looked down at his wedding ring.

"What's her name?" she asked him. He knew what she was doing; she was humanizing him, making him feel her pain. She didn't know what she was doing; she wasn't trying to do it.

"Haley," he told her.

"That's a nice name," she whispered, as if the tears weren't slipping down her cheeks.

**Present**

Hotch tossed in his bed till he finally sat up. How much longer could he go without losing his mind? Every night he heard their screams. Every night he saw their mutilated bodies. Every night he saw their friends and family's faces.

Why did this have to happen? Why where people sick enough to do this to people?

Their was a reason Hotch didn't believe in God, and this was it. To him, their was no real good in the world again. To him, his life was a nightmare.


End file.
